


Saviours

by crowdedangels



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 15:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9826718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowdedangels/pseuds/crowdedangels
Summary: “Are we certain he is not a Goa'uld?”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roolime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roolime/gifts).



> This was written for the fantastic Fandom Trumps Hate campaign over on Tumblr. Eternal thanks to RooLime for the contribution and for the prompt! Also thanks to Tricki, Vicki and MissLilyMoon for their help.  
> This story does not speak highly of the current US administration, so if that is not your bag, please leave now.

She wanted to take a minute to revel in the nostalgia; SG1 were back together and in the Colonel's front room with beers and a BBQ grilling on the patio. Except it was twenty years later, the Colonel was retired (again), his front room was _their_ front room and she was a General in charge of the SGC. And they were together to devise a way to save the programme from the new Trump administration.

Jack handed out more beers, and a Cola, and slumped into the couch next to Sam. “Have you saved the SGC from his tiny tyrannical hands yet?”

“Not quite.” She flashed a smile and addressed Daniel, “What if we just make fake documents only for him. Not divulging quite to the extent that we do – _did –_ for Obama?”

 “For four years? That'll be quite the undertaking. Plus I'm pretty sure it's treason?”

 “No, no,” Jack corrected, “It'd be _alternative facts.”_ Before adding a grumble of 'It'd be worth it'. He had not taken the election results well – none of them had – but Jack had been particularly pissed off about it all. He and Sam had watched the results come in, pained interest at what awaited the Stargate Programme, the country and their brethren in the military. He remarked about how his career in the special ops was not so a racist sonova could be in a seat of power.

 “Are we certain he is not a Goa'uld?”

 “As certain as we can be, big guy.”

 “Maybe we shift the complex out of phase when he tries to visit.”

 “I think he'd notice if the mountain had gone missing.”

 “Not the entire mountain, just floors 18 down.”

 “Possible. But how long do you think the funding would last if he wasn't able to come visit?”

 “We could make him stand on the ramp for the _kawhoosh_ and nothing would be left but smoking Mexican-made brogues.”

 Sam tried to stifle a giggle. She knew she shouldn't encourage the many ways Jack had listed of the President coming into bother, SGC style, but he had come up with some interesting ways since November.

 “Is there any way we could lessen the financial dependency from the government?”

 “Not if we want to maintain the security systems, personnel and weaponry we go through. I could maybe cut _some_ but we'd suffer for it.”

 Jack excused himself and took his beer to the patio, basting veggies on the grill, flipping burgers and adding sausages. He took a swig of the beer and let the heat rising up warm him against the winter chill. How had it come to this? Finagling a way to save the programme from the most incomprehensibly unqualified president yet. He was close to turning his retirement papers in again, but he would lose a lot more now than he ever had if he did.

 The first round of BBQ was nearly done, so he dropped the lid and leant against the railing while he waited for the few more minutes it needed.

 It was like the old days. Daniel was getting more animated the more he drank – he had been surrounded by military for over twenty years and still hadn't developed a stomach for more than three beers. Teal'c was still the stoic stalwart, confused how the planet he had come to love could make the same mistakes of his people. Sam was still brilliant and beautiful and even better than before. He had driven to the cabin straight from his last day at the Pentagon and she'd been there, waiting for him. Within the year, he had moved back into the home he had 'sold' her when he had moved to DC (one dollar. Worth it.) and they had been happily shacked up since.

 He drained his beer, tossed it into recycling and plated up the burgers. He put the platter on the table in the centre of the room that Sam had adorned with plates, cutlery, salad and various sauces and bread rolls, just to hear Daniel offer, “Maybe we could just turn out the lights if he came by and hide behind the couch like I did when my landlord came looking for rent after my second paper got discredited?”

 “Danny, it's been twenty five years and you've proven everything you ever wrote as fact.”

 Daniel narrowed his eyes and scooped salad into his plate. It was still a bugbear.

 “We could get Silar to show him around. He'd be in the ICU quicker than you can say 'Make America Great Again'.”

 Even Teal'c cracked a smile at that one.

 “There's no way we're going to be able to work with him,” Sam sighed. Jack slid his hand over her knee and she entwined her fingers with his. “We should just close up shop for four years -”

 “-he won't last four years-”

 “-and move everything to the Alpha Site. We take anyone who wants to come, have anyone else sign non-disclosures, and have the gate buried. Once he is out of office, we come back. If the administration can handle it.”

 “Is that not running away, General Carter?”

 Her fingers tightened around Jack's. Was she being a coward?

 “It's a 'bigger picture' situation, T.”

 “We should not stay and fight?”

 Jack's fingers tightened this time. Oh, how he wanted to fight. His other hand curled into a fist. “Don't tempt me.”

 “It's not like Chulak, or the Goa'uld, Teal'c,” Daniel explained, seeing the expressions on the faces of his friends. “American politics is...”

 “Contradictory and confounding?”

 “Something like that.”

 “And we are _certain_ this Trump is not a Goa'uld?”

 They gave him the benefit of thought, each concocting the image of glowing eyes in a darkened Oval Office, a sarcophagus in the residence, an Alkesh in the Rose Garden. “Y'know, it might explain some things...” Daniel offered, with a smirk.

 Jack laughed, placing a kiss into Sam's long hair and rising to retrieve the sausages.

 “So, who do we take?”

 "Anyone we can. It'd be like the Pegasus expedition – we take any one who would be of use.”

 Daniel said 'me' punctuated by coughs.

 “Jack?”

 “Technically,” he called from the patio. “I wouldn't be able to come because I'm not serving military. It would set a precedence and people would want to bring their partners, kids, dogs....”

 She held her plate up for the proffered sausages, “You're more than just a partner, Jack. You have extensive knowledge and experience of being off-world. Even living off-world. You could be a freelance advisor. You are definitely coming with me.”

 His lips twitched into a smirk and eyes darkened with innuendo, mischief and memories. She broke into a grin, shaking her head though her stomach flipped just a slight. She checked if Daniel and Teal'c had seen their little exchange, but they were focused on ketchup, mustard and hotdogs, and had inadvertently walked in on worse over the years. It took some convincing, but she eventually got Jack to actually lock the front door – it seemed easier that trying to get Daniel to knock and _wait._

 He leant down and kissed her, smiling to her lips before grabbing her empty bottle, and Daniel's, and heading up the few steps to the kitchen.

 Sam put her plate to the table and followed him to the other room, leaving Teal'c and Daniel to discuss who would be worthy of making the trip off world, if the Alpha Site was the best choice and if ketchup and mustard should be mixed or separate on a hotdog.

 “Hey,” she said as he closed the fridge door with his knee and three beers and a soda balanced in one hand. She crossed her arms and leant against the door. “Is this really the best option?”

 “I want to stay and fight and march as much as you do and as much as most of America does,” he flipped the lids off the bottles, “But we have to think about the programme and the staff.” He circled the kitchen island and stood in front of her. “And, not only that, there'll be a Trump Tower on P3-whatever over my very dead body.”

 “Oh God, I hadn't even thought of that.”

 He put his hands on her shoulders, “You're a better leader for the SGC than I ever was and you can do this. And I will be there every step of the way with you. Clothing optional.”

 She laughed, tucking her fingers into his waistband and pulling him into her for a searing kiss. 


End file.
